this // narry au

13. teenage dream

A/N: I was resisting the urge to update too soon but this chapter is too cute I couldn't do it so here you go a cute little cliché chapter

13 - Teenage Dream

"Y'know," Niall starts with a mouth full of omelette, "I really suck at advice and I end up getting all my friends sent to an interrogation room but I want to make sure you're always happy."

"I'm never happy." I mumble in reply, stabbing at my food. "And I forgot to mention, I don't even like omelettes."

Niall gasps, holding a hand up to his chest as if I called his mother out on something. "You what?"

"I only like normal boiled eggs and the fillings are pointless and disgusting, ugh."

"You need to get yourself set completely straight." Niall gasps lightly. "You and you're view on omelettes. Your sexuality can pass though."

"Haha, very funny." I roll my eyes.

"I know, 'm a proper comedian. I wasn't joking about getting yourself set straight though."

"I'll always be like this." I reply quietly. "Depressed, quoting good books and hating omelettes."

"I'm going to make you happy," Niall whispers, poking my cheek, "If it's the last thing I ever do."

"That was so dramatic!" I exclaim.

Niall laughs, "It sounds cooler that way, Harry Styles."

"I like the way you say my name." I murmur. "You make it sound cooler."

"I like you." Niall replies, stabbing his omelette quite harshly.

"Ha ha ha," I roll my eyes. "Nice joke."

"What if I'm not joking?"

"Niall." I groan. "Not now."

He laughs, "Sorry."

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"Harry." Niall mumbles, sticking his head into my bedroom.

"Yeah." I reply quietly, my voice muffled by bedsheets.

"I'm sad."

I sit up and look at Niall. "Why?"

"Because your sad." Niall replies, studying my movements.

"It's just a phase, go away and stop thinking about me. Please." I burry myself back into my pillows. "It'll just last a couple days. Just a phase." I repeat more to myself then Niall.

"I can't." Niall whispers. "You're the only person that's nice to me! You and your cat! And now your sad. Why?"

"There is never a reason."

Niall rolls his eyes and stomps into my bedroom before a tattooed arm links with my pale arm, pulling me out of bed.

"What are you doing?"

"We're going out."

I scoff. "What if I don't want to go out?"

"That sucks for you."

"I don't want to go out!"

"We are going out." The words slip out with so much aggression into each letter I don't try to reply. Niall's actually scary sometimes.

Exactly two minutes later I'm in Niall's car, listening to some song that went by the lyrics of: "New music doesn't have the the same soul, I like that old time rock and roll."